


savior

by rotchamp



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dream Team SMP Spoilers, enjoy, idk how to tag this lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotchamp/pseuds/rotchamp
Summary: technoblade takes pityquackity isn't deadenjoy
Kudos: 100





	savior

he knows what's coming.

oh, of course he does. they did lose, after all.

well, he thinks to himself, they didn't lose so much as... were eliminated. disqualified by an unqualified judge. there was no battle, no war. quite an unfair turn of events, yes, but he couldn't say they didn't deserve it.

quackity sits, legs crossed, as he watches his country burn. the smoldering craters crackle as he sighs. manburg is over.

wilbur sure was thorough, huh?

he chuckles to himself, ignoring the pain from his wounds.

it's rather nice to simply sit here, watch over the land one last time. his gaze does not fall onto the podium. the bodies would be too much.

for now, he looks up. up, to an endlessly blue sky. clouds float across so peacefully. an injustice to the calamity that happened so far below.

he hears the gentle crunch of dead leaves behind him. he can't make himself look towards the oncoming hoofsteps.

funny how threatening the sound could be, wasn't it? just earlier he'd been standing tall, proud beside schlatt as they walked to the podium. the crunch inflated their egos, visualizing the rebels under their feet just like the greenery.

now? his breath hitches at the noise. knowing it's coming doesn't shield him from the monotone voice.  
"hm. i'm shocked you're still alive."

techno is standing beside him, red cloak waving gently in the cool wind. his head jerks up in spite of himself, and tears come unpleasantly close to pooling.  
quackity will not be afraid.

the taller man, if he could be called a man, looked down at the former vice president. a hint of sympathy, no more than a drop, is in the fierce gold eyes of the warrior. and a fine warrior he is. the splashes of blood, still glistening on his netherite armor, easily outnumber the gashes in his chestplate. 

his mask, the stupid pig mask, is still fixed on his face. funny how he embraced the pig comments, made it his brand. being born in the nether really had warped his body, the hellish dimension turning his skin pinkish and his ears large and piglike. the hooves sold it most, though, hard material that tapped when he walked. perhaps his birthplace was the culprit for his aggression, thoughts only on violence? or maybe it was learned.  
he wonders vaguely what the mask hides. is he daring enough to ask?

technoblade tilts his head, and quackity realizes he's been smiling. hm. 

well, he's never been a man to hide his feelings. why start now?  
"hah. ey, techno, what's- what's up?"

gold eyes meet brown ones, one pair puzzled and the other nonchalant.  
"nothin' much." the gleaming netherite axe is lowered, just a bit.

perhaps techno should have expected this. quackity seemed done, a man dead to the world. he expected the sharp bite of an axe to the back at any second. maybe he would welcome it.

technoblade notes that his suit is torn and ragged. his left shoulder is rather badly burned, and he must have tugged off the suit jacket before, only exposing the wound more. even the warrior cringes at the sight, and the raspy breaths that he emits.

something must click in his expression, because quackity's gaze flicks to him again. panicked.  
"c'mon."

a nod away from the wreckage, an outstretched hand.  
a pause.

"let's get you fixed up." techno says gruffly, putting away his axe. when his hand is filled, he tugs up the other man and positions himself so quackity is leaning on him.  
he's taken towards the spruce forest, deeper than he's ever been alone. they walk for a while, and he's only opened his mouth to speak when they suddenly stop. he watches as techno digs into the side of a hill and quackity cringes in pain when his shoulder is moved. his mind races. 

did he really just allow his enemy, who had killed his leader (accidentally?) and betrayed his country to take him to the middle of the woods? what the hell?

with a few quick swipes of the dirt with his iron shovel, a wooden door is exposed. tugging it open, the masked man gestures for his... (hostage? friend?) to follow him.

the light is too tempting. he squints at the brightness while also drinking it in, greedy for something besides the dark forest and the dim light of barely smoldering craters. forcing his thoughts away from his country, he follows techno, who's paused in the doorway.

how's he going to explain this one?


End file.
